


Fate's Fool

by Yizuki_Khonsu



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Sporadic Updates, wildcardswap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 09:33:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11272761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yizuki_Khonsu/pseuds/Yizuki_Khonsu
Summary: Prison is not for the rehabilitation of criminals, but the punishment of them.ORHow Akira Kurusu came to be Masayoshi Shidou's assassin.





	Fate's Fool

**Author's Note:**

> While scrolling through tumblr I came across a post made by holdbeast at: http://holdbeast.tumblr.com that described what might have happened if Akira and Akechi switched roles. At first I was just going to write a small, two or three paragraph prompt playing with the idea, but it soon evolved into a ten page monster, which I'm now posting here.
> 
> Also, this story will probably be updated very sporadically, so if you read this and are inspired to make your own wildcardswap, you are more than welcome to! I just ask that you not copy this word for word, as I don't plan on abandoning this story.
> 
> Enjoy!

Prison was not for the rehabilitation of criminals, but the punishment of them. Akira had heard this saying before, but he hadn’t truly understood what they meant until now. The clanging of the iron bars as they close behind him locked him in a cell in juvenile hall. He felt numb. How had he ended up here? Fourteen years of life destroyed in a single night. A single decision to defend someone had landed him behind bars, abandoned by even his own parents. 

“Hey, hey!” A mockingly cheery voice called from one of the nearby cells. “Hey, newbie! What you in here for?” Akira ignores them, turning back to his bed. “Hey! Asshole! I’m talkin’ ta ya!” They shout.

  
“Quiet down!” The guard hollers back. “You’ll have your chance to get acquainted later!” He hears an angry huff, but thankfully the person didn’t try to talk to him again. All he did, all he felt capable of doing was staring at the ceiling of his cell, listening to the footsteps of the patrolling guards, the whispering of the other inmates as they communicated with their neighbors, the moan of the air conditioners until his eyelids became too heavy to keep open, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.  
  
Opening his eyes again he’s still in a cell, but it’s not the cell he fell asleep in. Confused and maybe a little scared, he sits up slowly. His clothes have changed. Rather than the military gray shirt and pants, he’s clad in the cliched black and white stripes always seen on TV. His hands are shackled together and the weight around his ankle let’s him know he’s tethered even inside this minuscule cell. It was with trepidation that he stood up and cautiously made his way to the cell door. On the other side are two blank faced girls dressed in their own ridiculous prison warden uniforms, outfitted with gold fringes and buttons. Their silver hair was pulled back into strict buns and brought their hypnotic gold eyes into sharp contrast. Past them, sitting at a wooden desk was a menacing old…..man? He certainly didn’t look human, with his pointed ears and abnormally long nose. His visage set Akira on edge. There was a gleam in those eyes, a hidden maliciousness that made him wary.  
  
“Trickster, welcome to MY Velvet Room,” the man said, extending a hand towards him in greeting. Akira said nothing, simply staring back.  
  
“So you’ve come to Inmate!” The one on his right snapped, turning her head to look at him. Her voice sharp and biting despite it’s childlike qualities. _Where am I?_ He wanted to say, but as he opened his mouth to ask, the other girl spoke.

“The ‘you’ in reality is currently fast asleep. You are only experiencing this as a dream.” Her voice is much softer than the other girls, but also emotionless. Akira could believe he was dreaming-it would certainly explain the clothes-but why were these girls talking as if what happened here was real? It was a dream right?  
  
“You’re in the presence of our Master! Stand up straight!” The first girl ordered. He felt his spine straightening at the harsh orders.

 “Welcome, I am delighted to make your acquaintance.” The man behind the desk said. His voice is deep and gravelly, almost too low to be considered human. “This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter.” So he isn’t dreaming then? “It is a room that only those who are bound by a ‘contract’ may enter.” 

“Contract?” He inquired. Nothing made sense right now.  
  
“I am Igor, the master of this place. Remember it well.” The man -Igor- continued, ignoring his question. Akira frowned. This being was the master of this dungeon? He’s not sure if he likes that. “I summoned you to this place to speak of important matters.” Important matters? What kind of important matters needed a kid just thrown into prison? Akira didn’t bother to hide the suspicious glare on his face as he stared down the ‘Master’ from inside his cell. “It involves your life as well.” The man added on.  
  
“If it’s so important why not let me out so we can talk?” He asks, rattling the bars a bit. It was bad enough he was locked away in the real world, he really didn’t want to be imprisoned in his dreams too.  
  
“Know your place Inmate! Who do you think you’re talking too!” The first girl shouted, slamming her baton into the bars. Akira let go to avoid the blow and gulped as the crackle of electricity coursed through the iron bars.  
  
“Still, this is a surprise,” Igor continues on, ignoring his statement again. He scowled. That little warden nearly fried his hands and this guy didn’t even bat an eye? He definitely didn’t trust him. “The state of this room reflects the state of your own heart. To think a prison would appear as such.” Yeah, Akira didn’t buy that for a second. “You truly are a ‘prisoner’ of fate.” He hesitantly stepped back up to the bars, keeping an eye on the warden to his right in case she decided he needed further ‘correction’. “In the near future, there is no mistake that ‘ruin’ awaits you.” The man paused and finally looked at him, as if listening to his response.  
  
“What do you mean ‘prisoner’ of fate? What is this ruin you’re talking about?” He finally manages to ask. His eyes were still fixed on the warden on his right.  
  
“I speak of the end to everything.” Like, the apocalypse? Before he could ask what he meant, Igor continued. “However, there is a means to oppose such a fate.” He said lightly, as if talking about the weather. “You must be ‘rehabilitated’. Rehabilitated’ towards freedom. That is your only means to avoid ruin.” Akira scoffed.  
  
“And let me guess, you’re going to help me with my ‘rehabilitation’?” He sarcastically asks. He didn’t trust these people one bit. Prison was for the punishment of criminals after all, not their rehabilitation. He isn’t sure what Igor’s plan is, but it certainly wasn’t helping him avoid ‘ruin’ out of the goodness of his heart.  
  
“Do you have the resolve to challenge the distortion of the world?” Again, Igor paid no attention to his words, almost as if he were reading off a script. Akira glared back, remaining silent even as it became apparent the three were waiting for an answer.  
  
“Such rudeness,” The warden to his left muttered at his stubborn silence, gazing at him with a cold golden eye.  
  
“Our Master asked you a question Inmate! You’d better answer him!” The other roared, her baton starting to crackle with electricity again.  
  
“….Well, I’d rather avoid ruin.” He finally said. Igor chuckled.  
  
“Allow me to observe the ‘path’ of your rehabilitation.” He said simply, as if he had already known he’d say yes. “Ah, pardon me for not introducing the others,” Igor apologized, waving to the two child-like wardens in front of him. The two snapped to attention and turned to face him in front of his cell again. “To your right is Caroline, to your left: Justine. They serve as wardens here.” He had already figured that out.

“Hmph! Try and struggle as hard as you like!” Caroline snapped, her gaze scorching with reproach.  
  
“The duty of wardens is to protect Inmates. We are also your collaborators,” Justine said, her own gaze cool and aloof. “That is, if you remain obedient.” She added on, a touch of steel entering her voice.  
  
“I shall explain the roles of these two at another occasion,” Igor said, tapping his fingers on the desk. “It seems the night is waning…it is almost time.” He turned over his hand, a little ball of red and black light gathering between his fingertips. With a snap of his fingers, the ball flit towards Akira and slammed into his forehead, right between his eyes. The sudden, pounding headache left him nauseous and gripping onto the bars in an effort to remain upright. “Since you are currently imprisoned in the real world, I shall give you the means to discover your path towards rehabilitation. Use it well.” He opens his mouth to retort, but the nausea made him close it again. “Take your time to slowly come to understand this place. We will surely meet again, eventually.” The loud clanging of a prison bell reverberated through the room and made Akira groan. A miserable, dry wretch crawling up his throat as the noise tried to shatter his head into pieces.  
  
“Times up!” Caroline snapped at him. “Hurry up and go back to sleep!” Akira couldn’t resist, simply falling to the floor of his cell and succumbing to the blissful darkness that carried him away from the pain and noise.  
  
When he woke, it was to the same, ringing bell he had heard in his dreams. Akira groaned as he put a hand up to his head. He still had a splitting headache, made worse with the sound of the prison bell, but at least the pain wasn’t overwhelming him like it had in his dream. Wearily, Akira got up from his cot and trudged towards his cell door. He could see the wardens unlocking them one by one and lining up the inmates for breakfast. He waited patiently, letting his hands be shackled and silently joining the line to the cafeteria. The noise of hundreds of boys clamored against his nerves. He could feel their predatory gazes on his back as he was handed a tray of rice and dried fish. He could hear their malicious whispers as he sat down to eat his bland meal.  
  
“He seems kinda skinny, doesn’t seem like much of a challenge.” A boy two tables over murmured.  
  
“Yeah, but you heard he’s in here for assault right? Guys like that have a temper. I bet once he gets started he’s pretty tough.” The kid next to him replied. A third boy across the table snorted softly.  
  
“People who let their anger guide their fists might seem tough, but they’re all the same. I bet he won’t make it two rounds.”  
  
“I’ll take that bet!” The second one said cheerily. “I want a pack of menthols if I win!”  
  
“Hell no, you know how tough those are to get ahold of? One twiggy newcomer isn’t worth _one_ menthol, let alone a whole pack!” Akira tuned out the rest of their conversation as it devolved into heated bickering. It was the same throughout the entire cafeteria. There was a tense, almost bloodthirsty sort of anticipation in the air, like spectators about to watch a gladiatorial match. More than one foot was casually extended to trip him up, but by some miracle he managed to avoid them. After breakfast, they were led out into a yard filled with recreational equipment. Many of the boys made a beeline for the small soccer field, breaking into teams that fought viciously over the faded balls. The brightness of the sun sent another wave of pain through his head, causing him to squint at the yard. God, what he wouldn’t do for a pair of sunglasses right now. If it was just a bit darker he wouldn’t be having these problems.  
  
When his vision actually darkened, Akira panicked, bringing a hand up to his eyes and looking around frantically. Nothing had changed. The other inmates were busy playing sports or working out. A few guards watched him warily, but looked away when it was obvious he wasn’t going to cause trouble. Confused, he squinted his eyes again, concentrating on what he had seen. Like a switch had been flipped, a soft ringing began in his ears and his vision darkened again. His surroundings morphed, going from a simple recreational yard to a giant arena, the stands filled with faceless figures all wearing warden uniforms. The other prisoners went from playing soccer, to wielding swords, fighting against each other viciously. The sand beneath him was dark with dried blood, reflecting the crimson sky. He could feel his mouth drop open as he observed. What was this place?  
  
**“Hey, you!”** A voice spat from behind him. Looking back, he saw a shadowy figure stomping towards him. They were dressed in what looked like traditional Roman attire, with a gleaming bronze helmet covering their face, allowing only their two glowing crimson eyes to show. He took a step back. **“All competitors in the games are to carry their weapons at all times! What are you doing without your gear? Emperor Baofu will not tolerate slackers in his Coliseum!”** Baofu? Wasn’t that the name of the head warden who ran the juvenile hall? Akira hadn’t met him, but he’d told that he was the one who would be ‘responsible’ for him while serving his time.  
  
“What?” He asked confusedly, only to have a black fist be plowed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Akira found himself sliding to his knees, coughing, and retching from the strength of the blow. Two pairs of hands clamped down viciously on his shoulders and hauled him up to his feet.  
  
**“Take him to the Throne room! Obviously this slave needs a lesson in obedience!”** The guard snarled. Akira fought against the hands that gripped him,desperate to get away. He’s led out of the dim sunlight and into the bowels of the stone coliseum he had somehow found himself in. The dark hallways are even bloodier than the outside arena. He can hear the wails and screams of prisoners echoing through the maze of passageways. The darkness is broken up every once and awhile by the dull light of torches held against the wall. Deeper and deeper they go, the corridors becoming darker and more twisted until they unexpectedly break into a wide room.  
  
It looks like if someone had thrown a throne room, and a torture chamber together. The cavernous ceiling above them was painted with ostentatious scene of brutality. Children tearing each other limb from limb, older guardsman beating immobilized victims. Walls lined with barbaric tools meant to cripple and maim. It made him sick. And sitting in the middle of the room on an iron throne, was the Emperor. Or at least, that’s who he thought it was. He was certainly dressed lavishly enough. The man wore robes of pure gold, adorned with royal purple and scarlet edging. A circlet of golden olive branches rested stop a head of graying, military cut hair. Acidic yellow eyes gazed down at him contemptuously.  
  
**“Who is this knave you’ve brought before us?”**  The Emperor sneered. The guards on either side of him bowed, forcing Akira to kneel prostrate before the man.  
  
**“Oh mighty Emperor! We caught this lowly slave idling in the Arena without any of his gear,”** The guard replied. His head was bowed with one fist on the ground.  
  
**“Oh?”** Baofu inquired mockingly. **“Well now, that won’t do.”** His fingers drummed on the armrest. **“You’re the new inmate correct? I was hoping to use you against our lead champion. It’s been awhile since he’s had the chance to fight some new blood. Nobody will bet on his opponents anymore.”** He got up from his throne, revealing it to be a torture device itself.  
  
“Bets?” He asked. The garishly dressed man laughed.  
  
**“A rather ingenious scheme, if I do say so myself! All these poor, angry kids. Locked up together indefinitely. Fighting is inevitable!”** The smirk on Baofu’s face was maniacal. **“I simply bring order to their conflicts.”** He chuckled at his own genius. **“Still, I suppose any plans for you will have to wait. Slaves are supposed to be obedient you know. It seems like you need to learn that.”** He lashed out with his fist, socking him in the stomach where the guard had punched him earlier. Akira let out a painful grunt, feeling blood coat the back of his throat from the violent assault. **“Tie him up! Make sure he understands the consequences of his defiance!”** His shoulders were manhandled as he was ruthlessly wrenched back on his feet, his hands were tied above him and his shirt ripped in two, exposing his back. Behind him was the shuffle and clatter of weapons and various weapons. He heard the crack of a whip and barely had time to brace himself  before it snapped across his back. The leather licked a stripe of white hot pain down his spine, drawing a scream out of his lips. **CRACK!** Went the whip again, drawing another cry. Blood dripped down, staining the already dark floor underneath him a fresh scarlet. _This isn’t fair!_ He thought. **CA-CRACK!**

_This isn’t fair!_

But what could he do?

**_“Are you just going to lay there and let them destroy you?”_ ** A deep echoing voice pounded in his head, sending waves of pain that eclipsed the searing pain of the whip that splashed against him. _ **“If you do nothing, you will never be able to stand up against men like them again. Will you really be content with that?”**_ The words burned at him, igniting all his repressed anger at his situation 

****_No._ He thought. _I can’t stand here and let some corrupt adults decide my fate for me! I WON’T!_

A chuckle echoed rang in his head. ** _”Very well, I have heeded your resolve.”_** The new wave of pain that hit him was unlike anything that he had ever experienced before. **_“Vow to me!”_** They commanded. **_“I am thou, thou art I”_** The voice chanted. His agonized screams gave even the guards pause as the power roiled through him, threatening to boil his skin off. **_“Thou who art willing to commit all sacrilegious acts for thine own justice! Call upon my name, and release thy rage!”_** He didn’t feel his wrists shred themselves as he broke the ropes that bound his hands with his thrashing. All he could feel was the _fire_ that threatened to consume him and leave him nothing more than a charred husk on the ground. His head felt like it was gripped in a vice. His newly freed hands were scrambling at his temples. **_“Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own! Though thou be chained to Hell itself!”_** He barely felt the hard edges of the thing that had appeared under his fingertips as he tore at his own face. All he knew was that whatever it was had to come off. _Right now._

With a final scream and shower of blood, he finally succeeded in ripping it off. His eyes caught a glimpse of the object, a simple white half mask in the shape of a masquerade mask, before the thrill of power overwhelmed him. He cackled with a mixture of relief and euphoria as the boiling power under his skin was finally released, turning into scorching blue flames that consumed his body, leaving him uninjured and feeling reborn. He reveled in the thrill as the guards were knocked over effortlessly with a sweep of wind, the fear in the Emperor’s eyes as he gazed upon his new form. He could sense something standing behind him, towering over his head and gazing down at these disgusting shadows with contempt. The ghostly blue flames continued to erupt around him. Akira barely noticed it. His eyes were on the gleaming sword that had landed at his feet. Slowly, Akira picked it up, testing the weight in his hands. Heavy, rather unwieldy in his hands. He heard Baofu whimper as he inspected the edge of the blade, wondering if it was of a good quality or not.

**“Pl-Please! Don’t kill me!”** He pleaded. **“I-I’m sorry! I won’t do it again! I’ll get you anything you want kid! Easy fights! Information on your opponents! Money from the bets! Anything! Just please, spare me!”** Akira looked down in contempt at the thing in front of him, groveling and sniveling for its pathetic existence. How disgusting, that such weak men ruled over others. Well no more. With a grunt, Akira plunged the blade through Baofu’s chest. The man choked, black sludge bubbling up from his lips like blood. He could feel himself shudder as those acidic yellow eyes dulled, the body dissolving into black smoke. His hands shook as the gravity of what he had just done hit him. He had killed-no. No, he hadn’t killed anyone. Bodies didn’t just dissolve into thin air. This had to be a dream. It wasn’t real. He couldn’t stop himself from shaking. Or could he? The sound of crumbling masonry echoed in his ears. The floor began to crack under his feet. Pushing his moral crisis to the back of his mind, Akira began sprinting as quickly as he could back out towards the arena where he had entered. The floor trembled with every step he took, threatening to give out under him. Akira listened to the terrified shrieks of the prisoners as the building collapsed around them. He shut his ears and pushed forward. Finally, the maze of corridors lightened to the bloody red he had seen what seemed like an age ago and he shot into the arena just as the last columns of the coliseum crumbled to the ground. The sky faded out to its normal, blinding blue. The gladiators fighting turned back into regular school boys playing and interacting in the rec yard. The guards didn’t seem anxious, as if they hadn’t even noticed his absence. Everything was normal.

_Was it all…just a dream?_ Akira thought. It had all looked so real. Felt so real. He could still feel the phantom pain of that whip cracking across his back. He tried to shake off the feeling of apprehension and began walking around the yard. The sudden sound of the prisons security alarms went off. The confusion of the other boys around him set him on edge as they were hurriedly led back to their cells. The corridors were filled with the buzz of gossip as they all murmured anxiously amongst each other.  
  
“What’s going on?” One inmate muttered, casting a glance to a boy in the cell on Akira’s right.  
  
“How should I know?!” The other snapped. His voice cracked from the stress.  
  
“Hideo said he heard something about an ambulance,” a boy from further down the row called out.  
  
“Quiet down!” The guard roared, glaring at them all. “That’s enough gossipping from you kids! There will be no more talking for the rest of the day, am I clear?!” The wing fell silent. After giving them all a hard stare, the guard finally let up and began patrolling the corridors normally. Akira couldn’t help the nervous shudder that went through him.  
  
***  
  
“Mr. Shido, sir!” A harried looking government worker burst into his modest office. Shido frowned, glaring at the shaking salaryman in his doorway.  
  
“What is it? Can’t you see I’m busy?” He snarled. The man coughed and nervously adjusted his frameless glasses.  
  
We just received word that Chief Warden Baofu was found dead in his office this morning. Along with…evidence of ‘that’ world.” Shido looked up sharply from the papers he had turned back to.  
  
“Tell me everything.”  
  
***  
  
Baofu was dead. That single thought rang through his mind as the wardens led him down the maze of corridors to the visitors room. Baofu was dead, and he had killed him. His whole body shuddered with horror. Akira had killed him, even after he begged for his life, run that gleaming sword through the chest of a stranger he didn’t even know, simply because he didn’t like them. He couldn’t think. His emotions roiled through his body, making him hot with rage and self-loathing and cold with guilt and anxiety at different intervals. The guards paused to open the door, but he didn’t register it. He felt numb. He was a murderer. Forget assault, this was so much worse. What would happen if someone found out he had murdered a man in cold blood?  
  
Akira was finally pulled out of his panic by the sound of a scraping chair in front of him. He looked up, only to freeze when he met the gaze of the very man who had thrown him in here.

  
“You-” He started to say, only to be cut off.  
  
“Hm, when I heard that someone had murdered Baofu I wasn’t sure what to expect.” The man said simply. His cinnamon eyes glared across the plexiglass at him. Akira felt the panic start to rise up. How-?  
  
“What do you mean?” He found his mouth saying. His voice was thin and stressed, but he forged on nonetheless. “There’s no evidence that Baofu was murdered. The coroner ruled his death as natural.” An arrogant, self-satisfied smirk spread across the others face.  
  
“Oh? Curious that you’d know so much about it.” _Shit!_ Akira laughed nervously.  
  
“You’d be surprised at how quickly information spreads through here,” he forced out. Oh god, that was a pathetic excuse, and his captor knew it.  
  
“Already tapped into the gossip of this place? You must adapt fast,” the man speculated. He said nothing. “As for no evidence, well, who said there was no evidence?” Akira felt his heart stop as a plain folder was pulled out. Inside were several black and white photos of the Juvie’s Yard. His hands shook as they were held up one by one to the glass, showing frame by frame his disappearance into thin air. He glanced up at the cameras in the corners of the room, trained on their every movement. His chest was tight, his limbs cold. He wanted to flee, to get away from this room and the evidence of his wrongdoing. “Leaving the grounds is illegal you know,” the man said, that same arrogant, malicious smirk on his face. Akira wanted to tear it off, run a blade through that bastard’s heart the same way he had with that alien warden. The thoughts fill him with horror and make him cold all over again.  
  
“”S-Seems like your cameras need to be replaced.” He managed to get out shakily. “Besides, even if I had left the Yard, that doesn’t prove I’m the one who killed him.” He continued on, starting to feel a little more confident. The man’s response was laughter.  
  
“You think that matters kid?” He sneered. “I told you before, the police are my bitches! All it would take is one little word and I could have you before a judge for murder.” A snort escaped him as he took note of Akira’s fearful gaze. “But fine, let’s say that they can’t convict you of murder. Let’s even say that this little folder,” he said, shaking it in front of the glass. “Can’t prove that you left the Yard, and your sentence went unextended.” He leaned in close, whispering through the glass. “Who would take you in? A troubled criminal, already been sent to juvenile hall, abandoned by his parents? Who would ever waste a chance on someone like you?” Akira looked down, unable to meet the man’s gaze. He was right. Goddamnit, he was right. Who would risk their neck for him? No high school would want to take him. No business would hire someone with the record that bastard just described. He clenched his hands into fists. God, it was so unfair. This man had ruined his life, permanently destroyed his future just because he could; because he had tried to do the right thing.  
  
Screw morals, Akira would make sure to kill this man himself.  
  
“So what’s your point?” He asked, his rage smoothing his voice into something hard and cold. The burning anger in his chest straightened his back and let him sit confidently in his chair. “You wouldn’t be backing me into this corner if you didn’t want something.” The man smiled back at him, the expression colder and appraising.  
  
“Work for me.” Akira scoffed.  
  
“And why would I do that?” He demanded, crossing his arms.  
  
“You’ll find yourself facing trial for murder.”  
  
The nonchalant way that statement was said made Akira’s teeth grind together. “That’s only what I have to lose, you’ve yet to mention what I could gain.” He bit out. An eyebrow lifted in amusement.  
  
“You really think you’re in a position to negotiate brat?”  
  
“You wouldn’t be coming to me if there were anyone else who could do what you want.” The amused smile fell into a thunderous scowl at his logic, but then the man smiled even more enigmatically, as if trying to charm him.  
  
“You’re rather sharp.” The man folded his hands in front of him on the table. “You’re right. The cognitive world-the place you went into-is a very recent discovery. Very few people are even aware of it. No one knows what it is, or how it works. We could use someone with an…insight, into that realm. Think of the advantages! The advancements in technology, in thinking! We would be looking at a new golden age for Japan!” Akira remained silent. He knew this man’s true nature. He wouldn’t be swayed by pretty words.  
  
“None of which will benefit me directly.” He fired back, letting a small smirk crawl onto his face as his opponent snarled at his insolence. “Try again.” He smirked as the face across from his purpled in rage before they smothered their emotions and gave him another patronizing smirk.  
  
“Then how about….a clean slate?” He froze. His opponents smirk grew at his stiff body language, knowing he had found his weakness. “Work for me in the cognitive world, and I’ll make sure your criminal record is expunged. No more assault charge, no more rumors. You’ll be free to continue your life as if this little incident,” he motioned to the building around them “never happened.” The room was silent. Shido held back the triumphant grin that threatened to overtake his face at the look in the young man’s eyes. He would do it. He could see it in the boy’s eyes, so desperate to become normal, to fit back in among his peers.  
  
“….Heh. It’s not like you would’ve let me say no anyways,” the boy finally said, closing his eyes in resignation, before looking back at Shido. “Fine, I accept your terms.” As he said those words, the entire world seemed to freeze. The voice of Justine resounding in his head.  
  
**I am thou, thou art I. Thou hast acquired a new vow. It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh the chains of thy captivity. With the birth of the Devil Persona, I have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and new power.**  
  
“I’ll have the papers for your release drawn up.” Shido informed him. “It’ll take some time, bureaucracy is painfully inefficient, but you’ll be released into my custody before the end of next month.” Akira nodded as he left, resting his head on the table as soon as that man and his flunkies had left the room.  
  
What had he just agreed to?  
  
_It doesn’t matter what I agreed to_. Akira growled to himself. _I’m not going to let him get away with this. I will destroy Masayoshi Shido with my own two hands! No matter what!_

**Author's Note:**

> Just to let you folks know, I'm not 100% sure where to continue from here. I have some vague ideas, but nothing solid enough to be able to write a second chapter. If you guys have any suggestions for what should happen next, please let me know down in the comments!


End file.
